Wi' pith this day.
Nae mair by Babel streams we'll weep,
To think upon our Zion;
And hing our fiddles up to sleep,hang
Like baby-clouts a-dryin';
Come, screw the pegs wi' tunefu' cheep, chirp
And o'er the thairms be tryin';strings
O, rare! to see our elbucks wheep, elbows jerk
And a' like lamb-tails flyin'